While my husband was wasting our savings at a seaside resort with his girlfriend, I took in a mysterious stranger.
You know those days when you wake up feeling something is about to change? Not good, not badjust a shift in the air. Thats how it was that Monday in February. The morning began as usual: I made coffee, and Oliver was already at the table, buried in his phone. Silent. Just tapping his fingers impatiently against the wood.
“Emily, listen,” he finally broke the silence, “Im leaving tomorrow.”
My spoon nearly slipped from my hand.
“Where?”
“Down south. Sun, sea, finally some proper relaxation. The tickets are booked.”
I stirred my lukewarm coffee, my thoughts tangled. Wed been saving for two years for a holiday together! Every month, we put money aside, denying ourselves so much. Id even put off buying that coat Id promised myselfall for this trip.
“What about me? My leave hasnt been approved yet.”
“So what?” He shrugged. “You think its easy for me here? Im completely worn out by this drudgery.”
My nerves do they even matter?
“But the money was joint savings”
“And what of it?” He stood abruptly. “I work too, and I decide when I need a break!”
That was the first time I truly suspected something was wrong. For months, hed been a strangeralways clutching his phone, even taking it to the bathroom. He used to leave it lying around without a second thought.
I watched as he packed. The new swimming trunks Id spotted in the wardrobe, that garish shirtnot his style at all. When had he bought these?
“If theres money left, Ill bring you a souvenir,” he said, zipping his suitcase.
A souvenir how generous.
The door slammed. I was alone. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe he just needed a distractionone that didnt include me.
Then his phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at it. The screen lit up, a message visible despite the passcode: “Babe, Im at the airport. Waiting for you”
“Babe.” He hadnt called me that in years. Said we were adults now, pet names were childish.
Ten minutes later, he returned for his phone, eyeing me warily.
“What are you doing here?”
“Living here,” I replied. “Problem?”
He snatched the phone, checking if Id touched it, then kissed my forehead like I was a child.
“Dont be cross. Ill bring you something nice.”
And he was gone.
I sat there, heart pounding. Who was this “babe”? Why was he so jumpy?
Suddenly, I snapped into action. Dressed quickly, I headed for the airport. Taxis arent cheap, but it was worth it. I needed the truth.
And I saw her. Embracing, laughinga woman in her twenties, long hair, toned figure, wearing that same garish shirt from our wardrobe. Oliver whispered in her ear; she giggled, clinging to him.
Eighteen months of saving for usyet all along, hed been planning this with someone else.
I wanted to march over, scream, slap him. But they were already boarding. Too late.
Outside, I collapsed onto a bench and sobbednot just cried, but heaved as if my heart had been ripped out. Passersby stared, but I didnt care.
Snow began falling, light at first, then thick. I sat there, frozen, unable to move.
A voice spoke: “Love, you alright?”
I turned. A man stood before meworn coat, frostbitten face, messy hair.
“Need help?” he asked gently.
“For me?” I gave a bitter smile. “Nothing can help now.”
“Its never as bad as it seems,” he said softly. “Fancy a job? Even just temporary?”
I studied him. Both of us had lost today. But at least he wasnt hiding his defeat.
“You know what?” I decided. “Come home with me. Get a proper meal, warm up.”
“Seriously?” He looked shocked. “Im a stranger.”
“A murderer?”
“No.” He chuckled. “Just down on my luck.”
“Then lets go. Oliver emptied the fridge before he left anyway.”
The taxi driver grumbled, but I tipped extra, and he relented.
On the way, he introduced himselfDaniel. Trained engineer, lost his job, then his flat. His wife left for her mothers, saying, “Come back when youve sorted yourself.”
I understood. Everyone carries their own pain.
At home, he went straight to the radiator, warming his hands.
“Shower if you like,” I offered. “Towels are in the cupboard, Olivers robe too.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. My husbands currently sunbathing with his mistress, so the robes free.”
While he washed, I heated soup. Was I mad, inviting a stranger in? But the world had tilted todaynothing made sense anymore.
When he stepped out, I barely recognized him. Clean-shaven, sharp eyes, though Olivers robe drowned himmy husband was shorter, slimmer.
“Positive youre not a drifter?” I teased.
“Absolutely,” he grinned. “Just hit a rough patch.”
Over dinner, he explainedworked as a structural engineer, company went under, unpaid for six months. Job hunting was hopelesseveryone wanted fresh graduates, not a man in his forties.
“Savings didnt last,” he sighed. “Wife stuck it out a while, then said, I wont live in poverty.”
“Love before the first hurdle,” I nodded.
“Exactly.”
I told him my storythe airport, the “babe” text, Olivers sudden departure after eighteen months of saving.
“And now?” he asked.
“Divorce.” I shrugged. “Flats mineinherited from Gran. Ill manage.”
“Kids?”
“Never happened,” I sighed. “Oliver kept postponingsaid it was too soon. Now I knowhe just didnt want them with me.”
“Maybe a blessing,” Daniel said carefully. “With a man like that”
“Yeah.” At least I wouldnt have to explain why Daddy went on holiday without us.
After dinner, he asked to watch the newshadnt seen TV in ages. I tidied the kitchen, returning to find him asleep in the armchair. Come morning, hed goneblanket over me, a note on the table: *Thank you. You saved me. If I land work, Ill repay you.*
A strange sadness hit. Like something bright had slipped away.
The next weeks blurred. Filed for divorce, boxed Olivers things, changed the locksmade it clear this wasnt his home anymore.
I stayed late at work. Colleagues wondered why I was so dedicated. Truth? The flat was unbearabletoo many memories, too much emptiness.
Oliver called a few times. I ignored him. Then texts came*We need to talk.* But what was left to say? It had all been said at the airport.
One evening, hauling groceries, I found him at the doorfuming, red-faced.
“Whats this?!” he snapped. “Why doesnt my key work?”
“Changed the locks,” I said calmly.
“Lost your mind? This is my home too!”
“Was.” I handed him the divorce papers.
His face twisted.
“Seriously? Im in my prime! I need passion, excitement! What can you offer? Just dull routine!”
“I could offer eighteen months of savings,” I said. “But youve spent those.”
He reared backthen froze. Behind me stood Daniel, flanked by two men in tailored suits.
“Emily, alright?”
Oliver gaped. “Daniel?!”
“The one and only.” Daniel smiled. “Promised Id find workturns out I did. Firms got a big projectneeded experience over youth.”
Oliver shrank into his coat.
I burst into tearsall of it, the hurt, the exhaustion, the shock. Daniel guided me to his car.
“Come home with me,” he said. “Ill explain everything.”
Over tea, he told methat night, hed seen a job ad during the news. A top firm needed seasoned engineers. Hed gone straight there after leaving mine.
“Probation at first,” he said. “Now permanent. Good salary, benefits, even promotion prospects.”
“Brilliant!” I meant it. “And your wife?”
“Claims Im a stranger now,” he said wryly. “Turns out shed been seeing someone. Just waited for an excuse.”
“Love before the first hurdle,” I sighed.
“Exactly.”
A pause. Then
“Emily maybe this is a sign. Maybe we should try something new.”
I considered: Why not? With Oliver, Id learned how *not* to love. With Daniel, it was
